WAlk With Me

Sara Smith

To walk a mile in my shoes could feel like a yard or a few feet, depending on the day. It’s funny how this roller coaster we call life works that way. In sneakers or heels, it all depends on how you feel.

Listening to the latest tunes could feel like wearing space shoes, but certainly no walk on the moon.

Carrying this long mane of curly hair, choosing comfort over style in the things that I wear is to carry the weight of a scholar, one who has been that way since she was a toddler.

Shoes of success and shoes that uplift. Shoes that might have been a gift.

Shoes of trial, error, and self-doubt. Shoes full of stories to tell about.

For a day, a month, or year would fill you in on all my hopes and fears.

Until they’re worn and beat up, a battle with the ground leaving you to weave and duck may leave you distraught, leave you wondering . . . Was that a run or a walk?

To walk a mile in my shoes may leave you yearning for your own. Those shoes represent you and a place you call home.

Forget walking in my shoes, try your own for some time. Compare the differences between yours and mine.